


Smokin' In The Boys Room

by joshlerhoe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, Smoking, Underage Kissing, Underage Smoking, daryl is a little shit but also a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 02:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshlerhoe/pseuds/joshlerhoe
Summary: Fed up with Lori and this stupid dinner date, Rick needs a few minutes alone, but that not what he gets.





	Smokin' In The Boys Room

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working my ass off to update SWTWC but everything I write for that is shit and I hate everything I write including this, enjoy

His grip was iron around his fork, fist trembling with tension. 

Lori just kept talking though, as if nothing was wrong, like everything was perfect.

She had dragged him out to some stupid dinner with the neighbors, saying to would be good for them to go out together.

‘What would be better for us is for you to quit fucking my friend,’ Rick thought bitterly, sipping from his wine glass. Even the choice of wine pissed him off. What he needed was a few shots of tequila instead of a pissing glass of goddamn wine.

Something Carol said was apparently very humorous to Lori, giggling and laying a hand on his shoulder. It took every ounce of self control he could scrounge up to not recoil away of her feather light hold. It took everything he had not to stand up and walk out, to not throw divorce papers in her face and tell her to get the hell out of his house.

‘Gotta save face,’ he reasoned. How embarrassing would it be for all his friends to find out his dutiful wife was fucking his best friend on the sly. 

Every time she got on his case about working too much or spending too much time in the garage, he just wanted to throw it in her face that he knew all about her and Shane’s affairs and watch her self-righteousness crumble. But he couldn’t.

Having to sit here with a cheating wife and play nice with neighbors he hardly even knew was bad enough, but having to sit across from some punk kid who kept staring at him was even worse.

The King-Peletier family often opened their home to foster kids, Carol’s profession being in social services and all, and they truly were blessings to the kids who came from rough homes or poverty, but something about this new one didn’t sit right with him.

The way his shaggy blonde hair masked his all knowing eyes intimidated him. Sometimes, the light above them would illuminate the cobalt of his critical irises, almost glowing in the way he obviously saw through their facade.

Whenever Lori threw a question at him or tried to involve him in the boring conversation, the boy would grin, like he was enjoying watching Rick squirm. He was getting off on this.

‘Smug little fuck,’ he grumped, making a point to avoid all interactions with the boy across from him. It wasn’t hard, the kid hardly looked up from behind his vail of hair, even when being addressed. 

“Rick, tell Carol what Shane said the other day at work, it was so funny,” Lori prompted him, sensing his isolation from the conversation. He seethed for just a split moment, nostrils flaring and fists clenching against the table surface. 

The boy smirked.

“I uh, gotta use the restroom quick, I’ll be right back,” he announced, standing up too fast to be casual. Lori looked up at him in worry, reaching to touch his arm, but he rejected the movement, stepping away from the table and heading straight down the hall to where he knew the bathroom was, last door on the left.

The mention of Shane’s name just boiled his blood.

How dare she do that, bring up the name of the guy she’s fucking around with all while expecting Rick to just sit back and take it.

‘The fucking nerve of this woman,’ he silently fumed, bracing his arms against the cool surface of the counter, head hanging, exhausted with this entire night already.

But what the hell was he gonna do instead of sit there and pretend to be a perfectly happy married couple? Go back home and lay in bed where his wife cheated on him? Go hang out with his traitorous “best friend?” Sit in the garage and make up some bullshit about working on the car that didn’t need any fixing to be done?

How the hell did his life get this miserable?

The door creaked open. He didn’t look up, already knowing who it was.

“Not now Lori,” he grumbled, working to keep his breathing steady and not fly off the handle at her.

“Well hurry up, I’m gettin’ bored out there.” He hadn’t heard this voice, certainly not his wife’s.

That blonde boy stood in the doorway, making his way in and shutting it behind him, self-satisfied smirk still right where it’s been the whole night.

“Jesus Christ, you always just walk in on people in the bathroom?” He fumed, diverting his eyes when their gazes met, back on his hands.

“Well, you got up in such a hurry, got worried,” the kid teased, voice like that he used when Carl was small. He scoffed.

“The hell you want kid?” He could see in the mirror the boy flip his fringe out of his eyes, reaching up underneath his hair and sliding a cigarette out from behind his ear.

“You ain’t the only one who had to get away for a minute,” he reasoned, digging into his pocket and producing a lighter, flipping the lid open and striking the flame, all in one fluid movement, lighting up.

“You can’t go to your room to do that?” The boy shook his head, inhaling deep and holding it, moving away from his position near the door across the small space to the shower stall, stepping in and sliding the window open, finally exhaling.

“My rooms right above the dinin’ room and Carol’s got a nose like a bloodhound. This is easier.” Rick ‘hmph’ed, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, Carol seems pretty sharp,” he figured, looking up at himself in the mirror. His hair was getting too long, curling at the nape of his neck, newly formed silver strands mixing in with his brunette. His beard was getting scruffy as well, adding to his disheveled look. He didn’t look as old as he felt, but it was gonna catch up soon.

His eyes gave away everything. The stress of work, his wife’s affairs, his dissatisfaction with life in general. It was all right there, plain as day. No wonder that kid read him like an open book, he wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it. 

“You want some?” The kid called over his shoulder from his place in the shower, arm resting on the windowsill.

Rick had never been a smoker, tried once in highschool but nearly hacked up a lung in the process, but the way the kid offered seemed so enticing, so casual and inviting.

Pushing away from the counter and away from the miserable man in the mirror, Rick joined the boy in the shower stall, nervously taking the cigarette between his fingers as it was offered.

“C’mon, it don’t bite,” the boy teased, smiling up at Rick. He rolled his eyes dramatically, earning a stifled giggle from the kid, biting the metaphorical bullet and bringing the filter to his lips, inhaling shallow, careful not to overdo it and get them caught by Carol and Lori. There would surely be hell to pay, Lori no doubt asking why he would pick up such a nasty habit, asking how he would feel if Caril started smoking because he saw his dad do it, and Carol asking why he would encourage her foster son to suck on cancer sticks. That was a whole mess of trouble he could go with avoiding.

His throat ached a bit as he exhaled out the window, passing it back to the boy who smirked a this inexperience, inhaling like a pro and exhaling through his nose.

“You’ll get used to it. Only offered cause it looks like you needed one,” the boy commented. Rick grumbled in response.

“So, who is it? The other man?” He nearly choked on his own breath, glaring daggers at the boy who seemed so nonchalant about the whole thing. Rick furrowed his upper lip, turning away to peer out the window into the pitch of the night outside.

“What makes you think there’s another man?” The kid was quick to jump on him.

“You didn’t deny it, and with that little display you made when she mentioned that guy from work, it’s not hard to figure out. Is he like your boss or something? Does she know you know?” His fists curled again.

“You’re a nosey little fuck, y’know that?” Something flashed in the boy’s cornflower blues, in a hitch of his breath, that same thing that’s been in his eyes every time Lori spoke to him or tried touching him. That same enjoyment of Rick’s torture.

“Well, I gotta get my fun wherever I can,” he reasoned, sucking down closer and closer to the filter, passing it back to Rick to finish off. He shook his head and reluctantly accepted.

“What the hell’s your name? I can’t keep calling you ‘this kid’ in my head,” Rick asked, attempting to divert the course of the conversation. The kid answered, but didn’t take the bait.

“I’m Daryl and you’re officer Rick Grimes, but that’s not important right now. What’s really important is who’s Shane?” He bristled at Daryl’s persistence.

“I’m about two seconds from choking you, just so you know,” Rick threatened, steely gaze locking with the mischief of the boy’s. He knew what he was doing, clearly trying to get a rise out of him.

“Maybe later sheriff,”he teased, smirking as Rick stubbed the filter against the shower wall passing it back to Daryl, who shoved it deep into his pocket to dispose of later where it wouldn’t be discovered.

“C’mon Rick, I wanna know. I’m not making fun of you if that’s what you’re thinking, it’s just that there’s nobody else to talk to and this is the best thing that’s happened all night.” Rick shot him an incredulous look.

“You’re quite the gossip queen, aren’t you?” Daryl shrugged.

“Not much else to do other than getting into other people’s business. So, how long has it been going on?” Rick chewed his lips, surveying the sincere look in the boy’s expression. No malice or judgement, just plain curiosity in those royal blues gazing so promisingly up at him. He sighed, waving his hand in a vague motion.

“I don’t know, but does it really matter? Once is too much, and it’s been more than once.” Daryl nodded for him to continue, undivided attention on Rick.

“Shane was my best friend and partner on the force, and no, Lori doesn't know I know, but god do I wanna tell her,” he confessed, casting his eyes down in shame. 

“Why don’t you?” It was such a simple question, but he couldn’t answer. 

He sighed before answering.

“I don’t know.” Running a nervous hand through his curls, he wanted nothing more than to change the subject.

“What about you Daryl? Since you wanted to hear all about my cheating wife, I want to know some shit about you.” For the first time that night, Daryl looked surprised, obviously not expecting Rick to be interested in listening to him.

“W-Well, I don’t know, what do you wanna know?” He stuttered for a moment. Rick shrugged, taking a moment to think of something.

“Why are you here? What’d you do to get thrown in foster care?” Rick knew it was dangerous territory to ask that, even if the kid did beat him down for information on his crumbling marriage. Being a cop, he knows full well the various reasons someone can be put in the system, anywhere from drugs to abuse to delinquency, and he had half a mind to backtrack and tell Daryl to forget he asked, but he answered before Rick could take it back.

“My daddy used to beat the shit outta me so I went an’ lived with my brother, but then he got caught with meth so they didn’t know what t’ do with me, so they stuck me here, and I get to stay as long as I don’t go gettin’ in too much trouble. Easy enough, but boring as hell.” He didn’t seemed at all ashamed of his situation and that put Rick at ease. So many kids found ways to turn everything around so it’s all their fault, but Daryl seemed to see the situation for what it all was. Rick smiled.

“That was all a couple years ago though. M’ brother got out a few months back ‘nd he’s visited a few times. I know Carol don’t like him, thinks he’s gonna influence me to start killin’ neighborhood cats er somethin’ like that, I don’t know, but he does bring me these, so she’ll just have to deal with it,” he explained, shaking the dwindling pack of cigarettes in his grip. Rick nodded, accepting Daryl’s offer of another smoke as he lit a second one up.

“So, do you miss it? Cuz it sure sounds like you do,” Rick implored. Daryl shrugged, toying with a strand of sandy hair curling near his ear.

“I mean, do I miss my ol’ man knockin’ my teeth in for no goddamn reason? No, not really, but I do miss bein’ able to do what I want, when I want without havin’ to sneak behind Carol and Ezekiel's backs to do it. I like it here, Y’know? But I always gotta fake it, always gotta watch my step ‘er else the next thing I know, I’m bein’ hauled off to another home where they’re crazy religious or kid fuckers er somethin’ like that. Demons ya don’t know, right?” Daryl trailed off, eyes following the trail of smoke drifting out the window, face turning melancholy. 

“I can relate,” Rick confessed, plucking the cigarette from between the boy’s fingers. “If I make one wrong move, tip Lori off in any way that I know she’s screwin’ around on me, I’ll lose everything. She’ll leave, take everything, take our son, and I wouldn’t be able to live with that,” Rick surmised, gaze following Daryl’s to where the smoke diffused.

Since he learned of Lori’s unfaithfullness, he’s agonized over why he just doesn’t up and leave, why he doesn’t confront her about it, but ten minutes with a kid wise beyond his years and a couple marlboros, it’s all so clear.

She’d take his whole life away.

The boy sighed.

“I know I don’t know shit ‘bout married life and lovin’ someone, but is somethin’ like this really worth hangin’ on to? I’ll tell ya, kids can tell when their folks ain’t happy, an’ I don’t think yer kid needs to be around that.”

Rick knew he was right, that every word of it was the truth, but goddamn he didn’t wanna hear it.

“Demons ya don’t know.”

Daryl nodded in agreement, taking the last hit off their shared cigarette, snuffing it out against the shower wall, lazily wiping the ash mark away with the pad of his index finger. Rick smiled at the action, finding it oddly adoring.

“Y’know, I thought you were just some punk kid, but you’re not so bad Daryl,” Rick confessed Something about the way the boy was so confident, yet sensitive to Rick’s situation, how he was self-assured and able to let himself be vulnerable all made Rick so comfortable with him, made him want to know everything there is to know about him. Turning to face the boy who had suddenly become very bashful, ducking away to hide the obvious blush rising to his cheeks.

“Thanks. I thought you were kinda pathetic at first, but I think you just deserve better,” he countered, licking his lips.

“Gee, thanks Daryl,” Rick deadpanned, causing the boy to smile and giggle.

“No problem sheriff.” There it was again. A flash through the boy’s eyes, but this time there was no mischief in, no joy in his pain. This was something entirely new, something he hasn’t seen in far too long. The way the already small shower stall seemed to shrink down further, the pair standing impossibly close, personal space nonexistent, the way their eyes never darted away, how Daryl’s hand timidly came to rest on Rick’s chest, heart beating strong under graceful fingertips. There was no mistaking it.

Rick couldn’t break away, didn’t even want to. The boy in front of him, so gentle, but at the same time so forceful in the way his gaze alone compelled Rick forward, hands lifting to rest at his slim waist, holding him close.

It was indescribable, how it felt to hold someone close again and now want to cry, to feel the touch of someone who wasn’t breaking his heart with every glance, to gaze into the most beautiful baby blues and have them look back at him the same way. ‘Good lord, those eyes.’

Timid fingers skated up the length of his neck, wrapping around to nest in his curls, the other sliding up to rest gently on his shoulder.

It was almost funny to Rick, that the most intimate he’s been with someone in a long damn time, is smoking cigarettes in the shower of his friend’s house with their foster son. But he didn’t feel bad about it. No, it was the most right he’s felt in months, with Daryl holding him so tenderly, like there’s no place he’d rather be then here with Rick.

Soft pressure built at the back of his neck where Daryl was coaxing him in closer, and he was a slave to the boy’s will, eager to please him in any way he could. He went easily, no desire to resist.

Kissing Daryl came so naturally, the way the tendrils of honey blonde hair tickled Rick’s nose, and how he could feel the boy smiling against his lips. It was all he could think about, arms closing in around the his narrow waist, holding him flush against his body, reveling in the warmth.

The boy keened as Rick gently pressed him back against the tiled wall, fingers timidly pushed up beneath his shirt, petting the soft heated skin of his belly. His hips rocked forward as well, body becoming lost in the moment, milking it for all it was worth. Daryl met the movement with his own, pitching his hips into Rick’s, friction causing the older man to break away, forehead falling to the boy’s shoulder, breath stuttering.

“Oh Daryl,” he panted, tilting his head to gently suck and nip pink marks onto the column of Daryl’s throat, lost in the response of the boy’s body against his, the feeling of being wanted by another. 

“It’s been so long,” he groaned against the golden skin, smooth and silky against his tongue. Daryl gasped beneath him, head falling back against the tiles, going dizzy with the older man touching him all over, his hands dropping down from Daryl’s waist to caress his ass, squeezing the swell of it, teasing the boy’s body.

Daryl whined, pushing him back by the shoulders.

“Oh god Rick, fuck I want to, so bad,” he managed between panting breaths, eyes meeting Rick to find him confused.

“I want to but not now, they’ll notice if we take too long, come checking,” he reasoned, caressing Rick jaw as he did, assuring the man who looked so concerned just moments ago, now understanding and agreeing.

“Good point. But when can we-”

“I can come over Friday night, Carol won’t ask why,” Daryl answered, hint of a smile grazing his kiss pink lips. Rick nodded in agreement, taking a step back from the boy against the wall, devouring his disheveled form, hungry to continue. 

Daryl grinned, stepping out of the shower, Rick following suit, taking a few moments to compose themselves in the mirror before returning to the dinner table, where Carol looked absolutely bored out of her mind with whatever long winded, pointless story Lori was droning on about.

She perked up at the sight of her foster son and guest walking out together.

“Great for you to join us again.” Her tone had an edge, but Rick was quick to ease her annoyance, moving to take his seat. 

“Sorry, I just needed a minute and Daryl ended up joining me, sorry for keeping him so long,” he apologized, not needed to look to know Daryl was suppressing a smile.

The night seemed to drag on and fly by at the same time, feeling like forever he had to continue the charade of being happily married to the woman next to him, and getting lost in the minutes every time he snuck a peek at the boy across him, Daryl’s eyes meeting his in an intense gaze.

Those damn baby blues.


End file.
